Guitars, Guitar Heroes, and Who Gets to Rock

"The new version of Guitar Hero is coming! The new version of Guitar Hero is coming!" goes the chant from fans of the video game. Make no mistake, it's an engaging, exciting, vicarious pleasure for just about anybody. And, it ain't no substitute for actually playing guitar.

I don't own Guitar Hero. Although I'm disinclined to say I never will, it's gonna be a while before I do buy a version of the game or its rival, Rock Band... Though the prospect of The Beatles Rock Band launch is mighty enticing.

Why my resistance? Let me play back a dialog with my now 18-year-old back in the halcyon days of his 17-year-old youth:

"Why don't we have Guitar Hero?"
"Why would we want that?"
"Because it's so cool... I mean you get to play all these great songs."
"But, I'm already a real guitar hero. I play guitar."
"Yeah, but..."
"Maybe you could try playing the guitar I gave you instead of a fake guitar with buttons?" (said with utmost care and love)

Honestly, I'd rather plow my way through a difficult chord progression on the six-stringed axe of rock than push the buttons on a mini fauxtar any day. But -- and here's the dirty little secret -- I do enjoy playing Guitar Hero. It is fun. And... it allows me to rock on with friends, many friends, in a way that actual guitars just don't allow.

Playing guitar has been, and will continue to be, a statement of sorts. It says, "Hey, I am this cool. I put in the effort to guarantee it." Pulling out a guitar, for all it's party-time fun, is an exercise in socially separating the wheat from the chaff. There are those who can play and those can not. Some perform, others only watch.

Guitar Hero and Rock Star magically demolish the distinction between players and spectators. The games are great levelers of talent. Any guitar player will tell you, the particular buttons pushed at any point in a video game rendition of a tune are simply representations of actually playing the song.

Insidiously and enticingly, the particular renditions must be mastered on their own merits. I play guitar, and I am bad at Guitar Hero. I am not alone. And yet, on the occasions I've played the game, it's been an absolute blast to stink it up alongside non-musical friends with mad skills in the game. Wahoo! Everybody plays. Everybody laughs. Everybody rocks.

Maybe the real reason I resist buying a copy is the threat to my cool-dad image once my eldest crushes me in a duel of fake guitars. Perhaps a secret acquisition and weeks of practice could solve this dilemma...